


the fields are painted gold

by figure8



Series: all the devils are here [3]
Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (Almost), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Magical Realism, Vignette, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 11:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20947844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figure8/pseuds/figure8
Summary: “You’re awfully demanding today, honey,” Joshua smiles.“Today?” Jeonghan scoffs.“You’re a diva every day, sorry for this slight on your reputation,” Joshua rolls his eyes before setting two mugs on the countertop.





	the fields are painted gold

**Author's Note:**

> what it says on the tin! this really is just Feelings Without Plot. set within a larger universe where things aren’t NEARLY as rosy, but for now, enjoy these idiots in love

_ Can I take it to a morning _

_ Where the fields are painted gold _

_ And the trees are filled with memories _

_ Of the feelings never told? _

_ When the evening pulls the sun down, _

_ And the day is almost through, _

_ Oh, the whole world, it is sleeping, _

_ But my world is you _

— The Paper Kites, _ Bloom _

  
  


Joshua has always liked the smell of rain. He grew up in sunny California, in the suburbs of Los Angeles, where it rained rarely, and _ smelled _like rain even less, the atmosphere too saturated with pollution and too dry and hot for wet grass to remain wet long enough. 

Here, in this small town in the South of the Korean peninsula, it rains often, and after the rain there are rainbows and droplets on the leaves, and this particular scent Joshua loves clinging to the air. 

“You didn’t bring an umbrella,” an accusing voice shakes Joshua out of his reverie. He turns around to face a pouting boy dressed in all black. 

This, really, is Joshua’s favorite thing about living here, although he does not admit it out loud often. Yoon Jeonghan in all his iterations, even when he’s being ridiculous like he is right now. 

“It’s not raining anymore,” Joshua points out patiently. 

Jeonghan twirls a lock of his long silver hair between two fingers. “It’s gonna get frizzy, Jisoo,” he complains. He only ever uses Joshua’s Korean name when he’s being particularly whiney. “And there’s still drops falling from the trees. You really do not care about my well-being at all,” he sighs, faux-outraged. 

Joshua snaps his fingers. It’s a quick, easy spell. He’s not supposed to use his magic so liberally, but protecting his boyfriend’s hair from humidity isn’t going to upset the balance of the universe. Or at least Joshua _ hopes so. _ He’s been indulging Jeonghan a lot, lately. It’s really hard to say no to him, no matter how much Joshua likes to pretend he’s not whipped. The thing is, he knows he holds the same power over Jeonghan, so he doesn’t feel awful about it. Except that Jeonghan cannot do him any magical favors. He’s literally the least magically inclined person Joshua has _ ever _ met, which is really saying something, because Joshua’s dad once almost set their house on fire trying to cast a simple cooking spell. Jeonghan isn’t even _ bad _ with magic, though, he simply does not have a _ drop _of it in him. Nothing. Nada. It’s very uncommon, in a world where practically everyone uses basic spells on a daily basis, but it’s not unheard of. Jeonghan is very sensitive about that, but he would rather die than show it, Joshua knows. When they first started dating, he would quite literally hiss if Joshua tried to make his life easier with a spell. It makes Joshua feel warm inside to know that he now outwardly asks Joshua to perform magic solely for his benefit. It’s the real reason why he never refuses, even when he pretends to be terribly annoyed by it. 

“Here you go, drama queen,” he rolls his eyes. Jeonghan grins like a happy cat. 

They walk home hand in hand. It’s a very quick trek from Jeonghan’s tattoo parlor, but Joshua waits for him every evening, even if he closes his own store much earlier. No one ever really needs the apothecary after five, and if there ever was an emergency, they all know where to find him. 

Holding hands, that too is something he mainly does for Jeonghan’s benefit. Well, that’s a lie—he thoroughly enjoys having Jeonghan’s hand in his, usually seeks it out reflexively whenever they’re in close proximity in private, be it in the large bed their share or when they’re drinking tea in silence on the weekend, Joshua reading while Jeonghan sketches. But he’s never really been a PDA person, a _ holds hands in the street _type of person. Maybe it was because back home it didn’t matter. Back home no one really cared that Joshua liked boys, except for the occasional asshole. Here it’s different. Jeonghan has anger inside him still Joshua doesn’t know how to soothe, but he tries his best. His speciality is healing magic, but there is no spell for Jeonghan’s quiet rage. The only magic here is in the humanity of the people around them, how Joshua slowly won them over, and how little by little he convinced Jeonghan there was a common ground to be found. 

Jeonghan is militant about being himself now, emboldened. So they hold hands in the street. Joshua doesn’t mind. It makes him feel a weird mix of pride and overwhelming fondness, the same strange emotion that overcomes him when Jeonghan wears that ridiculous _ NO MAGIC, NO FUCKS GIVEN _sweatshirt their friend Kyungwon got him as a gag gift. She also has zero magical abilities, which makes her the only person in the world allowed to tease Jeonghan about this. 

“I’m absolutely fucking beat,” Jeonghan announces after Joshua has unlocked the door of their little cottage. “I’m going to sleep for three thousand years.”

“What did you even do today?” Joshua chuckles in disbelief. 

“Don’t mock my craft,” Jeonghan glares. “I worked on this one dude’s back for five hours straight. At some point I was _ very _ tempted to just stab him with the needle so he’d just _ ask _for a break.”

“But you didn’t,” Joshua says agreeably, padding to the kitchen and putting the kettle on, “Because you’re secretly a very nice person.” 

“Fuck you,” Jeonghan glares harder. He climbs on a stool and puts his cheek down on the granite kitchen island. “Feed me.” 

“You’re awfully demanding today, honey,” Joshua smiles. 

“Today?” Jeonghan scoffs. 

“You’re a diva every day, sorry for this slight on your reputation,” Joshua rolls his eyes before setting two mugs on the countertop. “Do you want sugar in your tea?”

“Yes, please,” Jeonghan perks up. “Brown, two—”

“Two cubes, I know, who do you take me for?”

“I don’t know, you asked if I _ wanted _sugar.”

Joshua dips two homemade tea bags into the water. It immediately turns a pretty shade of purple. “Your stomach was upset a few days ago and you wanted it plain.” 

Jeonghan accepts the warm cup gratefully, sniffs. “It smells like violets, is this your insomnia blend?” Joshua just laughs. Jeonghan squints. “Are you trying to roofie me, Hong Jisoo?” 

“Jesus,” Joshua shakes his head, still laughing, “No, I poured myself a cup too, you paranoid idiot. It’s just a herbal tisane, nothing from the shop. I just like how violets smell.” 

Jeonghan doesn’t look convinced, but he takes a sip nonetheless, studying Joshua over the rim of the cup. In his defense, Joshua _ has _passed him a bowl of the Sleep Well Tea he sells at _Hong’s Traditional Medicine_ without him knowing before, but that was a last resort measure because Jeonghan had not slept in three days. There’s no need to do that when Jeonghan is clearly already planning to head straight to bed after dinner, if they even have dinner. 

“Did you eat anything at work?” Joshua asks, stirring his own beverage. 

“A sandwich,” Jeonghan nods. He checks the watch on his left wrist. “About, uh. Six hours ago.” 

“You are absolutely _ dreadful _at taking care of yourself,” Joshua sighs. 

“You washed the reds with the whites last week,” Jeonghan counters with accusatorily. 

Joshua sets down his mug. “What? How is that—at least I don’t forget to _ eat_?”

“You ruined my favorite shirt!” Jeonghan insists. “How can you still not know how to do laundry correctly? We’re twenty-five!”

“First of all,” Joshua huffs, amused, “That was not your favorite shirt.” 

“It could have been,” Jeonghan says plaintively. 

“Second of all,” Joshua ignores him, “Stop digressing. What do you want for dinner?”

“For you to answer for your crimes,” Jeonghan says. 

“Kimchi-jjigae coming right up,” Joshua says cheerfully. 

“We should get married,” Jeonghan says. Joshua chokes on his toothbrush. 

“_What?_” he croaks after he’s coughed out toothpaste and maybe half a lung for a full minute while Jeonghan just watched him without a hint of concern on his face. 

“We should get married,” Jeonghan repeats. 

“I’m sorry,” Joshua says slowly, “Weren’t you the one complaining about my laundry skills less than an hour ago?”

“Well,” Jeonghan says dryly, “You’re not gonna get better by _ not _ marrying me.” His face is covered in a black viscous substance he _ says _is a mud mask, but Joshua is very dubious about the whole thing. His hair is held back by a bright pink plush headband. He looks absolutely ridiculous. 

“We can’t even get married here,” Joshua says. His chest feels a little tight, suddenly. It must be the humidity in the bathroom. Jeonghan always turns the water temperature way too hot when he showers—they tried having shower sex early on in their relationship and _ never again, _Joshua isn’t trying to get his dick burned off, thank you very much. 

“No, but we can in America,” Jeonghan says patiently, in the nice slow tone he takes when he’s explaining something to a toddler. 

He’s great with children, actually. Joshua’s little cousins adore him. He always squats down to be at eye level with them, and he’s never condescending. 

“You’re being serious,” Joshua realizes belatedly. 

“No, I’m proposing for shits and giggles,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m being serious.”

“You’re not _ proposing,_” Joshua says panickedly, filling a glass with water from the sink to rinse his mouth. “You don’t even have a ring.”

“Actually,” Jeonghan starts. 

“You are _ not _proposing,” Joshua interrupts him, voice firmer, “In the bathroom, with your disgusting face mask on, while I’m brushing my teeth. This is out of question. I’m going to say no, Jeonghan.” 

Jeonghan just stares at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he’s being serious. “Oh my God,” he says finally, “You want all the gross cheesy stuff.” 

“I want all the gross cheesy stuff,” Joshua confirms. 

“Shua,” he whines, “I blew up a month’s pay on that ring, isn’t that enough?”

“Absolutely not,” Joshua says, categorical. 

“We’re not _ straight people,_” Jeonghan insists. 

“God forbid, no,” Joshua shakes his head, trying to remain serious even with bubbles of laughter climbing up his throat, “But I _ am _a flamboyant twink from L.A. I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“Fine,” Jeonghan sighs. “Are you done? I need to wash my face.”

“Be my guest,” Joshua chuckles. 

Jeonghan molds himself to Joshua’s back when he climbs into bed with him later, presses hot kisses to his nape in the semi-obscurity. Joshua hums contentedly, settles back into his embrace. 

“I was being serious, you know,” Jeonghan whispers. 

“Yes,” Joshua says, voice just as low even if there’s no one to bother if they’re both awake, “I did catch on to that.”

“I want to marry you,” Jeonghan says. His palm comes to rest over Joshua’s heart, open. 

“So you’ve said,” Joshua says, amused. “You do realize that won’t change anything, right? We’re already basically an old married couple.”

“You make me really happy, Shua. You make me a better person. I want—I _ need_—I don’t know, to do _ something _about it. To show you. And, like, our friends and your family and that one aunt I like.” The last part is said in jest, but he sounds serious in a way they rarely are out loud. Joshua turns around in his arms, covers rustling. 

Their curtains are translucent, because they both like waking up with the sun, which means that at night moonlight filters in. It allows him to study Jeonghan’s face, the intensity of his gaze, the tense line of his mouth. 

He presses a kiss to Jeonghan’s lips, hopes to soothe his nerves. “You show me every day. I know you hate the cringey stuff, but Jeonghan, baby, I don’t need grand gestures. I know you love me.”

“This is very embarrassing,” Jeonghan grimaces. “I have many regrets.” He hides his face in Joshua’s chest. “It was also ten times easier when I couldn’t see your face.”

“You love my face,” Joshua answers reflexively.

“I do,” Jeonghan says, voice muffled by Joshua’s silk pajama shirt. “I love your face so much I wanna marry it.”

“Okay,” Joshua chuckles fondly, petting his hair. Jeonghan looks up. 

“Okay?”

“Well, I’m not going to say _ no, _Jeonghan,” Joshua huffs, “That would be really mean of me, what the hell.”

Jeonghan suppresses a yawn. “Your mom will be happy,’ he says sleepily.

Tenderness crashes over Joshua like a wave on the shore. “You talked to my mom about this?”

“Had to ask her for your hand,” Jeonghan nods. “I’m not a fucking savage.” 

“Can I see the ring, at least?”

“Fuck no,” Jeonghan snorts, “You want me to get out of bed now? Absolutely not. Remind me in the morning.” 

“I can still say no,” Joshua warns him. He gets an elbow to the ribs for his troubles. 

“And risk disappointing your mother? I don’t think so.” 

“I hate you,” Joshua mutters. “Stop using the fact my mom likes you best against me.”

“You’re stuck with me _ forever,_” Jeonghan says, delighted. 

“You are the bane of my existence,” Joshua says, snuggling closer. “Go to sleep, you get up early tomorrow.”

Jeonghan starts snoring about ten seconds later. Joshua thinks _ God, I _ am _ stuck with him forever, _smiles stupidly to himself, and shuts his eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments keep the author well fed ❤️


End file.
